


Bad Feng Shui

by Hawkwitch



Series: post [6]
Category: Yes Minister, Yes Prime Minister
Genre: Angst, Awkwardness, Gen, Humor, Post-Canon, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:00:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4166895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkwitch/pseuds/Hawkwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title: Bad Feng Shui<br/>Characters: Jim, Frank, Sir Humphrey<br/>Genre: Speculation/humor/angst<br/>Rating: G<br/>Warnings: none<br/>Summary: Post-canon, Jim happens to listen behind the door. And he's a bit depressed again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Feng Shui

Nightmares woke me up in the middle of the night. Then I realized it was not really middle of the night. It was already morning and 20 minutes past the time I had said I would be in my office.  
Shoot. I’m late...  
That wild Agnes Moorehouse woman called last night. It is really weird. I wonder where she got my number? She was asking for an audience. I said I’ll think about it and will call back.  
There was a public inquiry. Somehow it came out that Frank Weisel had spent years touring the world on tax-payer’s expense. So what exactly did he produce, people wanted to know. Frank had been too overwhelmed and had quite forgotten he had to write a thingie. His actual output was zero. To get out of this embarrassment the poor sod published his old quango paper. Even if noone actually read this, it sold like ice cream on a hot summer day. He made more money than ever dared to dream.  
I am not quite sure what to think of all this now?  
Cannot I trust anyone at all?  
Where is my Principal Private Secretary? (That slovenly slob Albert.)  
They have started a discussion without me or what? But I’m The Prime Minister!  
I shall listen behind the door maybe?  
So I could hear Frank speaking: „Still I did not get her office and had to move upstairs...“  
And Humpy replied: „Do not despair, Mr. Weasel, if The Prime Minister is not satisfied with your performance and you must stand in the shadow of your predecessor Mrs. Weinwright’s skirt. After all, unlike some people here, she was surely a professional – not quite some attention-seeking adventurer of an amateur.“  
„You called her an „impossible woman“ only recently.“  
„Certainly not! Mrs. Weinwright was most gracious lady.“  
„Still it makes no sense why her office was turned into a waiting room.“  
„Mr. Weasel, to put it into a language close to your heart: having this office located there caused really bad feng shui.“  
„Really? What are you talking about, Appleby?“  
„Ehh, get some class. That would be Sir Humphrey Appleby for you, nincompoop.“  
„Sure, what was your honour again? S.O.B. perhaps?“  
Albert cut in: „Sorry to interrupt, Gentlemen, but maybe I shall go and see where The Prime Minister is and wake him up?“  
SLAMMMM!  
OUCH! OUCH! OUCH!  
Damn!  
„Albert you slovenly slob, are you trying to murder me now?“ I yelled spontaneously.  
That surely woke me up...  
„S-sorry, Prime Minister, I did not know you were behind the door listen--. Sorry, sorry, sorry! I call the doctor!“ Albert said, embarrassed.  
„No, I’m fine!“  
„I’ll get you some water, Prime Minister?“  
„Water? Hah! Where’s your brain! There is no alcohol in water!“  
So what was this discussion supposed to be about?  
I’m already depressed before it started.


End file.
